The Storm
by Golden Nutleys
Summary: She's drowning in emotions and she cannot reach the shore.


Title: The Storm

Author: Nemo

Rating: Pretty much PG.

Spoilers: If you haven't been watching Season Five then shield your eyes.

Disclaimer: If I owned either TWW or the Garth Brooks music library, I would be a lucky girl. 

Feedback: Like manna from the gods.

Summary: The door it slammed like thunder and the tears they fall like rain  
and the warnings from her family whirl like a hurricane.  
She's drowning in emotions and she cannot reach the shore.  
She's alive but can she survive the storm?

Author's Note: Okay, I tried to go for a bit of suspense with this one, so (a) Pay no attention to the pronouns in the summary, those lyrics are just inspiration and (b) Don't skip ahead to the end. Let me know if it worked. And it's a little choppy because it's kinda sorta stream of consciousness. And because, well, we all go a little mad sometimes. I think I am becoming slightly obsessed (but in a good way) with the drama that is All My Bartlets, so I've got some other non-related stories in the works. 

Oh, and "The Storm" by Garth Brooks. Fantabulous song. Really works for this situation and if Wells and Co decide to take the Bartlets down to DivorceVille (please, no).

She left tonight.

For the first time in a long time, I allowed my emotion to really show. I got mad at her. I yelled. She yelled back. 

She had been so far off. So despondent. But I let her have time. Time to come back to me. 

And then, suddenly, there she was, right by my side. Her face and her eyes shining with the happiness and love that made me instantly fall for her so many years ago.

But with the return to clarity came a realization of what was going on. Of how far reaching the ramifications were.

I was standing in the kitchen, having left the room as the phone rang. She walked in with a look of confusion and anger that I don't think I have ever seen on her before. 

She wanted to know what kind of game I was playing. She thought all of my emotions were real, but now she just felt like a pawn.

I didn't know who she had been talking to, though I had a clue. But I didn't know what they could have said to make her feel like this.

I thought she of all people would understand. But she didn't. And she was my last stronghold. The one who has never failed me. Everyone else had gotten tired of me long before this. 

I tried to stay calm, but we each had so much pent up anger and frustration. Before we knew it, the weeks of tension were pouring out in ways and words that I wish I could take back and never use again.

And it the midst of it all, she suddenly stopped. She shut down once again and stormed out of the room. At first I was scared that she was going to slip back inside herself again and I moved to follow her. But then I thought better of myself. We had done this a million times before. She needed time to cool down and she would be back.

But then I saw it. The flurry of activity. Doors and drawers being opened and slammed. Bags being dragged and stacked. 

She appeared in the doorway. "I can't be here, anymore," she said. "I can't sit here and watch as you destroy us. As you destroy yourself. I won't be the curtain you hide behind. No matter what you think, this is in your hands to fix. And if you don't… Well… I can't say that I'll stand with you. None of us will. I love you, but I need my life back."

With that, she was gone. Back to a place she says she feels safe. Back where she doesn't feel like she is being used.  

And now I am sitting, a drink in hand. Or is it my third or fourth? Does it matter anymore? I am wrapped in a blanket, my body wracked with chills. Yet it's summer and there is no breeze. 

My God, I only did what I thought was best. Best for me, best for everyone else but always, first and foremost, best for her. How can she not know that this was all for her? How can she not believe that I never wanted to hurt her?

I had advice from so many sources. Everyone said this was the best thing to do. This was the way it had to be. Everything would work out for the best if you just…

Best for me.

Did I really just think that? No, who cares about what's best for me…

Could I have been lying to myself this whole time? Did I do all of this just so I wouldn't have to face the truth? Is there a part of me that knows that as soon as I do, I'll realize how wrong I was? How irrational I have been. 

When she was here, I truly believed that I could get through all of this. She was my rock, my foundation, my…

…crutch. My scapegoat.

When she needed me most of all, I was there. But it was only so I could avoid myself.

And now that she is gone, in the mere hours since she left, I feel myself slipping away. I know I need to be strong. I know I need to stand firm in what my heart has been telling me. But how can I do that when my heart belongs to someone else, the same person it is telling me to let go?

Everyone thinks nothing can be worse than the way things were. Then why do I feel like I may never breathe again? Why do I feel like we are just in the eye of the storm?

She swore to me that she would never leave. That we would always stop and work things out. That there was no way she could ever not believe in me; not trust me. She promised. 

But we are not much for promises in this family.

She left tonight.

After a month of recuperating and finding herself again, my daughter left. 

She's gone back to Washington. Back into the arms of her father who suddenly seems to know, seems to understand it all.

And I am sitting here as the storm rages around me because of the punishment I should have seen coming. The retribution for turning my back on him.

I drove her away. Because I loved her too much? Because I cared too much?

No.

Because I couldn't answer her when she asked if I was using her as an excuse to stay away.

Because I hesitated when she asked if I had thought this through.

Because I didn't know what to say when she asked if I was leaving her father.

I used to be able to bring people back to life with my hands. I used to be able to heal the deepest wounds with a touch, with an embrace. When did it all disappear? When did I lose myself?

Why is my love no longer enough to sustain those I love, I need?

Zoey left tonight.

And I am sitting here, drinking and shivering. 

Not from the cold. 

Not from the sadness. 

But from the fact that I now know how I have made him feel for so long.

Alone. 


End file.
